Flipside
by Microcrane
Summary: Hitoshi wanted to just run away from it all, run away from that man, but he knew that all efforts would be in vain. After all, no one could truly escape the physical and psychological costs of living with a sociopath.


**It's ten in the evening and you're working on a paper that's due in a few days and you're exhausted, but suddenly an idea hits you real fucking hard and you realize, "** shit, I gotta write this down. **" Anyways, I hope you enjoy the really short one-shot.  
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Frankly, Hitoshi hated going home. He hated stepping off school grounds, he hated walking down the streets, he hated boarding the local bus, he hated getting off, he hated going up to the front stairs of his home, he hated opening the door, and most of all, he absolutely _despised_ seeing his legal guardian. He was always greeted by the same cheery and drawled words, asking him how his last few days had gone and if anything interesting had happened, and if he had been _doing as he had been told_.

He always wondered why this man bothered to take him in, but he didn't want to ask. Who knows what he would say? On second thought, probably something along the lines of "we're much more similar than you think, Hitoshi." He hated many things, especially if they related to the tall delusional male who viewed him as his ward.

The way the man, walked, talked, looked at him with those fucking _raised eyebrows_ , smiled - everything about him irritated Hitoshi. The man was insane, a sociopath some may daresay. He killed who he wanted and did whatever he pleased; neither hero nor villain. A true neutral party whose reactions were way off the deep end. Of course, the man knew Hitoshi held him in a special place in his heart, reserved only for those he was constantly damning to an eternity of suffering in Hell, and much to the boy's disdain, he found mild amusement in this.

Hitoshi knew he was only humouring the man by acting this way, but he couldn't help it. The way the man walked, talked, looked at him, smiled - they were all things that felt so _warm_ and _familiar_ to him and he hated it. He loathed all of it.

"Good night, Hitoshi ❤ " came the man's voice, dragging out the words in that way that the boy despised so much.

" . . . " Rather than respond, Hitoshi rolled over so he was facing away from the light that formed the silhouette of the monster. He heard that infuriating chortle of his again, filling his room as the man slowly closed his room door, the soft yet eerie creaking only adding to the tension.

"So cold, so cold..." The creaking paused and Hitoshi felt his shoulders tense, panic and fear washing over him as he heard the door open fully again and footsteps slowly approach him. He was perfectly still, flinching when he felt the man's breath against his ear and neck, but refused to move his shaking gaze up to the man, refused to give him what he wanted. There was a painfully long silence before small puffs of air fanned over the boy's skin, giving him goosebumps as he screwed his eyes shut, trying but failing to shut out the silent chuckle. "You would make a fantastic killer... ❤ "

The fear nearly got to him in that moment, the anxiety. His heart pounded faster, just wanting for the man to leave him alone, to just _get away from him_. Helplessly, Hitoshi curled up into a fetal position, and he heard a pondering hum as the man finally - _finally_ \- drew back, giving him some space to breathe. He heard a pondering hum, and Hitoshi tensed his shoulders even further in apprehension.

"You're so sensitive...but perhaps that will change in time. All that matters to me is that you become stronger, and worth killing. I hope that day comes soon ❤ " The man laughed (no, giggled,) one final time before finally leaving, closing the door behind him with a soft click. Maybe hours had passed by the time he had gotten his teeth to stop chattering, his heart to stop pounding so, his body to lax a little.

The boy opened his eyes, misery swimming deep within them as he hugged himself tightly, resisting the urge to scream in anger and frustration. He shouldn't be like this - he _couldn't_ be like this. It wasn't only because he was afraid, no, that was only half the reason.

It was because he, Hitoshi Shinsou, the boy who aspired to be a hero and prove everyone wrong, could see himself much too clearly in his "father," Hisoka Morow, the man who killed as he pleased and was the exact opposite of what he wanted to be.


End file.
